Her limbs started twitching, but she was afraid the blue light would stop. Go, she urged it. Break through.

“I need another one,” the man said distantly, and there came a sound like muffled bells. “I know you’re tired, and I’m sorry. I’ll feed you scales until you explode.”

Jai Chen cracked an eye to see the spirit returning to her, tiny blue fingers extended. She looked more pale than earlier, like a winter sky.

A second sapphire light joined the first, then a third. They drilled through her channels, shaking her limbs until he had to hold her down, but they were doing it. They were drilling new connections through her madra channels. Where they passed, the loops of light were connected again, healthy and free.

The first light was soon extinguished, but when the second and third converged on the core, she blacked out.

…only for an instant, it seemed, because she woke up to the same situation and a man’s voice saying, “Forgiveness. I only know how to do this as an attack.”

She braced herself before a hand struck her in the stomach.

The blow itself was light, but a rush of madra flooded into her, scattering her core, forking like lightning through her channels in reverse. Her madra was scattered, her circulation broken, and even her living madra seemed stunned.

But more madra came in behind it, like a tide. The first pulse had broken the damage, and now his energy filled her, settling into her new channels. It filled her, stretching her core, soaking into her spirit. This must be pure madra, because her soul accepted it gladly, even her serpentine power not resisting at all.

As a test, she cycled madra to her lungs, trying to Enforce herself as she usually did to breathe.

Opening her mouth, she took her first full breath in years.

Her spirit was weak, her core tiny and dim, and her madra channels felt tender as burned skin. Her entire soul ached, and spiritual pain was deeper than physical.

But she could cycle now. Madra ran from her core in loops, flooding her body, bringing life, and returning to the core unobstructed. She lifted her hand, and it didn’t feel like trying to lift a brick with a willow switch. She could move.

The blue spirit curled up on the man’s shoulder like an exhausted dog. She was shivering and almost white, and the broken door was visible through her body.

The man rose, standing over Jai Chen. He scanned her again, letting out a breath of relief. “My name is Wei Shi Lindon. I can leave you behind, if you tell your brother what happened tonight. Will you do that?” She was focused on breathing. How much sheer joy could be packed into a single breath?

“Lindon,” he repeated. “Will you remember that? Do you want me to write it down?”

“Wei Shi Lindon,” she said, and she didn’t have to pause to gulp down air between each word. “Yes. I will remember, and I’ll tell him, I…”

She trailed off as she realized her hair was a mess, her bedclothes were askew, and she was huddling on the floor in front of him. They were back in the real Empire now—appearances would matter to this young man.

Jai Chen straightened, hurriedly smoothing out her clothes, but her legs were still unsteady. She caught herself on the edge of a desk, and avoided his gaze; she didn’t want to see him judging her. “My name is Jai Chen. I’ve never hosted a guest, so I’m not sure what I can…but I don’t want to be rude to…”

Lindon held up both hands to stop her. “No, please. I can’t stay long anyway; I told the old men outside I was on Arelius family business, but they could come in here with spears at any time.”

But he didn’t leave. He paused awkwardly, as though he meant to say something else. Her spirit shivered again.

Jai Chen risked a glance up at his face and realized he was staring intently, almost glaring, at her stomach. Which was only covered by a thin layer of silk.

She didn’t want to be rude, but…Slowly, she moved her hands to cover her stomach.

His head jerked up. “What? Ah, excuse me.” His eyes climbed away from her until he was staring at the ceiling. “I was looking at your core. This might be a rude question, but is your madra alive?”

Her madra was still as animated as before, but this time it was on her side. Her spirit didn’t fight her anymore; it was almost as though it fought for her, slithering along according to her cycling technique.

“It used to fight me,” she told him. “I think your Remnant brought it under my control. Thank her for me, if you would.”

He returned to looking at her stomach, realized what he was doing, and jerked his eyes to the side. “Her madra cleanses and restores, I think. She helped me too.” He patted the sleeping spirit on his shoulder.

“Ah, I have to go. Please tell your brother: I’m Wei Shi Lindon, and I’d be much happier if we didn’t have to fight.”

She felt dazed, wondering if this was somehow a trick and her spirit would collapse into wreckage again. If she didn’t, then she owed him a debt she didn’t know how to repay.

Because she didn’t know how else to express that, she bowed. “Thank you,” she said at last.

Lindon was staring at her again, but at least it was at her face this time. “This may sound terrible, but have we met before? If I’ve forgotten you, I apologize, but you seem familiar to me.”

Jai Chen had heard about him from her brother, but she’d never seen him in her life. “Maybe I look like…” She cut herself off before realizing what she’d been about to say.

“No, I’ve never seen his face,” Lindon said. He shook his head. “Anyway, if you’ll excuse me.” He gave a little smile, bobbed his head, and started to walk out.

Without knowing why, Jai Chen spoke to his retreating back. “Um…did you kill young master Kral?”

He stopped, hitching up his pack. The heavy monster in the other room growled again.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Jai Chen,” Lindon said, without turning around. “If I’ve done anything wrong, or if you need her help again…” He patted the sleeping woman on his shoulder. “…then you can find me at the Arelius family. I’m sorry for disturbing your night.”

He walked out, pausing briefly in the dusty wreckage of what once had been the door to her room. A moment later, he opened the front door, and she got a glimpse of the outside world through the hole in her bedroom wall.

A Jai clan warrior in blue held a spear at Lindon’s chest, while an elder to the left looked nervous.

Lindon turned his head, meeting the elder’s eyes, and the old man flinched visibly. Jai Chen could understand; if his eyes had turned black and red again, the elder could be forgiven for thinking he was a death Remnant in human skin.

Then Lindon dipped into a bow, his pack bobbing behind him. “Thank you for your patience,” he said, and walked away.

A giant turtle followed him, big as a horse, munching on a chair as it left—a couple of painted legs disappeared into its lips as it rounded a corner. The doorway was already damaged where the sacred beast passed through earlier, and the frame shattered further this time.

Smoke rose from the giant turtle’s shell, and the cracks between the plates smoldered red. The sacred beast growled in Lindon’s wake, snorting black fire at the elder on the outside. The old man yelped and hopped back in time to avoid burning his toes.